Changing Times
by Pakmai
Summary: Finding himself transported to 1917 thanks to an odd device, Q must find a way to live. While catching his bearing, he meets a certain Mr. Bond who complicates his life. Can they navigate a war and each other? Can Q return to his own time or will he choose to stay with the mysterious spy? 00Q, Craig!Bond, Whishaw!Q. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**I was going to focus on one story at a time, but a friend of mine gave me this idea and it seemed so interesting I just couldn't pass it up. I hope you find it as interesting as I do!**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own James Bond or any other characters. I am just using them for a bit. :)**

 **Comments/Reviews welcome!**

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Sometimes it was nearly impossible to find things in this building. Before buying anything new, Q is told that he needs to find anything he can salvage from the basement of the new MI6 building. Budget cutbacks, is that he's told.

To evaluate just how bad things are, Q goes down there to see first, without any of his minions, letting them deal with everything in Q-branch under the watchful eye of R. "Oh, bloody hell." He says as he sees the masses of ancient and outdated equipment. "It's going to take months to root this all out." he mutters to himself, but he steps forward over a few boxes, shifting them around with a cough as it stirs up some dust. A small sigh is given as he looks around.

In the corner lays something rather interesting though, and he steps over to look at the strange machine. Leaning over it, he shifts it out into the open a little more with a small grunt of effort, so he can have a better look at it. "Hello my pretty.. what exactly are you?" He asks as he looks it over, moving some wires aside and such, wiping away some dust along the front. Either he was a little more rough than he intended or the device is trigger happy, because he accidentally flips a switch, causing the device to whir to life, lighting up with a strange blue aura.

"Shit." Q mutters as he taps the switch on the front a little, but it doesn't seem to want to turn off. The front has a display of old digital numbers, but it flickers back and forth and doesn't stay on one. "Double shit." The young man mutters when it doesn't turn off, and he jabs the button for a few more moments. It's winding up further though, making the young man nervous.

Not exactly wanting to start pulling wires because that could cause all kind of other problems, Q starts looking it over a little more frantically. He doesn't make it in time however, the whine reaching top pitch before it pauses, clicks and then seems to explode, throwing the young man back against the cement wall. For a few moments, everything goes dark, and when Q comes to his senses he's a little concerned he might have passed out.

Blinking open his eyes, Q looks around the now darkened room. The darkened and empty room. While it appears to be the same room, without anything in it, Q notices that it looks rather like an old war bunker. And one that has been used recently if the discarded papers and bottles are any indication.

With a feeling of dread, Q stands on shaky legs and walks over to one of the newspapers to pick it up slowly. Given its condition, he assumes it's more than a few days old, but not nearly as old as it should be, since the date he reads on it is 1916. Something that nearly makes him choke.

Whether it's from the impact or from the news that there is a good chance he might have just been tossed like a rag doll back in time, Q starts to feel a little nauseous. As everything settles in, he realizes that the noise he's been hearing all this time wasn't just ringing in his ears, it's air raid sirens.

Just as he tries to stumble toward the door leading to – hopefully- the stairs people start coming down, seeming panicked and bringing lanterns. Some of them are in fancy dress, probably for a night out on the town, and others are in their pajamas, covered in dust like they barely escaped a building collapse.

Unable to focus on much of anything beyond that, Q stumbles over to the corner and leans over, dry-heaving on his hands and knees for a few moments as everything gets a little overwhelming.

"Are you alright?" A deep voice comes from behind Q, a hand lightly being placed between his shoulder blades.

Nodding a little, Q coughs a few more times before he starts to sit up and he looks over at the man with the gentle voice. Even in the low light, he can see how handsome the man is, with piercing blue eyes, short blond hair and such a figure.. Blinking a few times behind his glasses, the young man drags his eyes back to the face of the man in front of him. "I'm alright.. I just got hit on the head by a bit of debris, I think.. It's all a bit of a haze, my building.." He formulates his story quickly, but even being foggy from a slight concussion, he is a genius, and he puts his brain to good use.

A nod is given, and the man in front of Q sits back a little, taking a swig from a flask before he holds it out. "Looks like you need this more than I do. Name's Bond. James Bond." he says with a slight nod of his head.

Cursing his slightly shaking hand, Q takes the flask and he nods a little, lifting it in a silent Cheers. "Thanks." He says before he takes a swig, wincing a little at the burn. It doesn't take much for him to evaluate the man before him. Afterall, for over a year he's been working with the same sort of men. Fitted suit, gun in a holster underneath, always glancing at people and exits. Appearing relaxed while being ready to spring into action if the situation calls for it. If Q was a betting man, he would put a substantial sum on the man in front of him being a spy.

After returning the flask to its owner, Q holds his hand out. "Quentin Brown. My friends call me Q." He says with a small shrug, since if you take the 'Que', it would rather sound like 'Q', which is why that was always his cover ID at MI6. Not that anyone in this time would know that.

"Pleasure to meet you, Quentin. Sorry to hear about your flat." James says with a small nod of his head, taking the hand and shaking it firmly, letting it linger for a moment before withdrawing his hand. After taking another swig from the flask, he closes it up and slips it into his jacket while his eyes linger a little too long on Q in a way that is perhaps a little more than friendly.

Clearing his throat a little, Q tries not to get distracted but he nods. "Thank you.. I don't know what I'll do now. Work is so hard to come by, and everything I had was in there. My money, my wallet, my ID..." he trails off and shakes his head. "I came outside as soon as I heard the air raid sirens go off, I suppose I panicked a bit. The next thing I know.." He trails off, rubbing the back of his head a little.

Seeming sympathetic, Bond nods a little as he looks at the younger man. "What is it you do?" he asks as he watches him, leaning his back against the wall and surveying the room before his attention returns to the man in front of him. The evaluation would be correct of course, he is a spy. And as a spy he's learned that you need to be very open to all manner of things. It leaves things a little.. fluid in his personal life. Even now, he has to admit that this near stranger is more alluring than he has any right to be. And he most certainly should not be thinking such things in this situation, with everything the man must have lost.

"Oh, I don't really have a profession. I'm good with mechanical things, numbers.. too clever for my own good sometimes, or so I've been tone." Q admits sheepishly as he looks away from Bond before he shifts slightly to get more comfortable where he's seated. Thank goodness he has a leaning toward classic fashions. It might be a bit odd, but his clothing is only slightly on the eccentric side of fashion.

"Hm. You know the government is always looking for code breakers. Or so I hear. Could see if they might be needing any." Bond says casually as he glances over at the younger man, glancing him over for a moment before he locks eyes with him.

Q feels himself blush slightly under the intense gaze, glad that the lights are so dim so maybe it isn't as visible, but he also can't pull his eyes away. "Thank you, I hadn't considered that. I'll have to look when we get out of here. Is there someplace you might recommend that takes in those whose homes have been destroyed?" he asks as he looks at him.

Finally releasing Q from his gaze, Bond tears his away and glances around the room. "I know of a few. There's one not too far from my flat, I can show you after we get out of here." He reassures, glancing at Q again with a small smile. "Do you need to find any family? Wife, children, maybe a girl?" he asks as he looks at the younger man, feeling out the situation carefully.

A small laugh comes from Q, and he shakes his head a little. "No. Nothing like that. I'm not the marrying sort." He says quietly as he turns his head to look at the others in the room, listening to the sniffles of women and the snippets of conversation he can hear.

"I see. I understand, I'm not the sort either." Bond says with a small smile, which is true for a few reasons, but not, he suspects, the same reasons that Q has. He's gotten good at reading people in his years of work, and he's needed to be, in order to get what he needs to do his job.

"So what do you do for work, Mr. Bond?" Q asks curiously as he looks over at the man, interested to see what he might give for a job.

"Traveling sales. Not a lot of need for that sort of thing right now, so I don't get to travel as much as I would like, not anymore. I have a few deals working though." James says vaguely with a little smirk as he glances over at Q, shifting as he tries to get comfortable, and the first shake of the ground and explosion is heard outside.

Wincing slightly and ducking his head when he hears the explosion, Q takes a trembling breath. If he dies here, he'll be very cross, he decides. "You must be quite the people person, then. I've always had trouble relating to other people." he says honestly, looking down at his hands as he picks at his fingernails a little. "Always been too clever for my own good." He says with a small laugh, not sure why he finds it so easy to talk to this random spy.

Glancing around for a moment, Bond then looks back at Q, and since no one is particularly paying attention to them, he reaches out and puts his hand on the other man's frail-seeming wrist, giving it a small squeeze. "There's no shame in that. Not everyone is the same." he says, letting his hand linger, testing the reaction before drawing it back.

A slight blush again creeps over Q's cheeks and he nods a little. "Oh, I know." He reassures, not pulling back from the touch, just smiling slightly as he looks into the face of the man. Were he in his own time, he would feel no shame in being more blatant in his interest. But these are different, more dangerous times, which makes him a bit sad and a little more scared than he normally might be in this position. It's not as if he's not used to dealing with violence, but he is far away from his home in a time he doesn't fully understand, even if he got good marks for history in school.

Bond gives a firm nod, his thumb brushing against the back of Q's hand for a moment before he withdraws his hand, and lays one forearm over a bent knee casually. "Sounds like we might be stuck here for a while, possibly all night." he says as he glances toward the ceiling and then looks at a few soldiers who are standing by the door, keeping people in and trying to keep people calm.

"Wish I had brought something to eat, then." Q muses with a little sigh, before he looks at Bond. "I sometimes get distracted, and miss meals." he admits, a little embarrassed as he shrugs, looking at the other man again.

"You're a bit hopeless, aren't you?" Bond asks as he looks at the younger man, a little amused as he looks around the room. "Not much to do about it now. Even if anyone here had food, they're not likely to share. The shelter should be able to give you some food." He reassures as he considers everything, trying to figure out if he should send Q to his superiors, or send him through more normal routes, once they're out of here.

Q blushes a little, and he clears his throat. "Yes, thank you very much, Mr. Bond." He says in a slight annoyance, shaking his head at how Bond evaluates him. "I'm not hopeless, I can just be a little single-minded sometimes when it comes to work. Apparently I have the ability to ignore everything else when truly focused, including hunger. Though I really would prefer a cuppa, right about now." He muses as he pulls his knees up closer to his chest and folds his arms on top of it as he shivers lightly. Between being underground, it being night, and there being a dampness, it's given him a bit of a chill.

Bond glances at him and he nods. "I've known people like that. Mostly very intelligent people." he says with a slight smirk. "Focus and intelligence seems to go hand in hand sometimes." He says thoughtfully, the ground shaking as another bomb goes off. "You should get some rest. I'll wake you if it stops." He says as he looks up at the ceiling.

Not being able to deny how exhausted he is from the emotional stress of his apparent time travel, or mental crack, whichever this is, and the fact that he had already been up for most of the day when this happened, Q scoots over closer to the wall, leaning back on it and closing his eyes. He's grateful that he is one of those people who can sleep in pretty much any situation. He may wake up rather sore in the morning from positioning, but at least he won't be tired.


	2. Chapter 2

Q was woken by a strong hand on his shoulder, which was nice for a change and made the young man smile for a moment before his mind snaps back to reality and remembers everything that happened. Along with exactly where – and when – he was. Sitting up quickly, Q takes a deep breath as he looks around, only to realize he doesn't have his glasses and when did he lay down?

"Here." Came the gentle tone of Bond from beside him, before he gently slid the younger man's glasses onto his face. "It's early, but they're getting ready to let us out." He explains as he looks at Q curiously for a few moments.

Q touches his glasses and adjusts them before he nods. "Thank you, Mr. Bond." He says as he looks around and takes everything in, trying to place everything for a few moments since he's just a little groggy still.

James holds out a piece of paper to Q. "Go here tomorrow and ask for Ms. Moneypenny. She's the secretary to my employer, who will probably be able to give you a job. I'll talk to him today." He offers, waiting for Q to take the paper before he stands and stretches, offering a hand to Q.

After taking the piece of paper and glancing at the address, Q stuffs it in his pockets and takes the hand, groaning a little as he stands because his legs are so stiff, so he stretches before starting to brush himself off. "Thank you again, Mr. Bond. It seems I'm quite in your debt." he says somewhat formally as he looks at the attractive agent, trying not to stare or anything too untoward.

Helping Q to brush off his back and also use that as an excuse to touch the younger man, Bond shakes his head and chuckles. "Not at all. Just trying to do some good in these trying times." He says as he looks at Q. "Come on, I'll show you the shelter I told you about. They can probably help you find a new place and get back on your feet." He reassures before he starts to head out.

Running a hand through his hair, Q nods a little as he fidgets with his glasses, before he follows Bond out of the shelter with others, blinking into the bright light of the morning. This gives him the first good view of 1917 London, and he can't help but stare at the cars, horse-drawn carriages, the cobblestone streets. It's a good thing he favors natural fabrics and more classic cuts of his clothes, so he doesn't look too out of place. He just hopes no one examines his glasses too closely, because their plastic frames and lenses aren't exactly something that exists.

"Blimey, it's bright out here." Bond says as he glances around. "Come on, then. I'll buy you some breakfast." He offers, grabbing Q's arm and giving it a tug to get him going in the right direction. "You sure you shouldn't have your head looked at? You're looking at everything as if you've never seen it before." A small frown crosses his face as he regards the younger man, wondering what it is about him that makes him seem so different.

"Well, after last night everything looks a bit different and new is all. But my head is fine. Just a bit of a twinge." Q reassures, running his hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his head for a moment.

Bond watches Q steadily before he nods, deciding to accept the explanation before he turns to walk down the road. "I imagine it would. You lost your whole life last night. I mean, your flat and all." he explains as he looks around, watching everything warily as he moves around the people milling about, going to work or bringing their wares out to sell for the day.

Taking a deep breath at all the scents, Q follows Bond until they stop at a small shop. "You look like an Earl Grey man to me." He says, ordering a black coffee, earl grey for Q, and then two pastries the shop does particularly well. Paying for the items, he hands the tea to Q before leading him a bit away to a small park area.

A bit surprised, Q can just nod and suppress his blush at Bond reading him so well. He lets the older man order, taking his tea and also trying very hard not to think of this as any sort of date. It's not, this is a different time, and he really needs to give up all thoughts of that, unless he wants to be killed. "Thank you for the tea, Mr. Bond."

"I think we know eachother well enough that you can call me James, Quentin." Bond says with amusement, holding out the small bag with the pastries. "Pick whichever you want. They're both very good." He reassures, taking the moment and the small bit of privacy to look Q over slowly, evaluating him, but mostly just looking.

Pink definitely tinges Q's cheeks that time and the tips of his ears, but he nods. "Yes, thank you." he says as he takes one of the pastries and eats. "This is very good." Eyebrows going up in surprise, he looks back at the little shop they came from, committing its name to memory so that he'll know where to go later if he wants one. "Blimey, I'm not sure I'm going to be fit to meet your employer. My clothes will be a rumpled mess by tomorrow. Not very professional." He mumbles as he looks down at himself, sipping his tea before looking up at the agent and getting frozen in his gaze, before he slowly licks some sugar glaze off his lips.

Staring at Q for a moment, the small peek of a tongue distracts James for a moment, and his eyes flicker down to watch the movement, before he looks back into Q's eyes. "I'm compensated well for my sales." He notes, seemingly out of the blue, before he takes out some money and offers it to Q. "get yourself a new suit, and maybe a shave and a haircut." he notes, figuring the younger man just hadn't been able to get to a barber in a while since he was unemployed.

"Oh, no. No, you've been far too generous, I can't take that." Q says with a shake of his head as he glances at the money, then at James for a moment, finishing his pastry and licking some glaze off his fingers.

Trying not to get distracted, Bond shakes his head. "I insist." He says, reaching out to stuff the money into the outside pocket of his jacket, before smirking a little. "There are very few things I spend money on for myself. And you clearly need it." He reassures as he looks at the brunette.

Clearing his throat and looking down, Q nods quietly. "Thank you, James." he says quietly before he clears his throat again, nervously. "You should probably show me to this shelter, so you can get back to work and you won't have to bother with me anymore."

"Oh, it's no bother, Q." Bond says in a quiet tone, stepping closer to the man before he brushes past him gently, heading down the street again.

For moment Q just freezes, then he shudders and turns to follow quickly. He tries to tell himself to eep his mind out of the gutter, but this man is probably the most attractive and most virile man he has ever had the pleasure to spend any time with. And it's messing with his head at a time that he needs to keep his cool. Taking a deep breath, Q looks around as he sips his tea. "How much longer do you think this war will go on?" He asks, trying to be casual about it.

"Oh, not long, I don't think. I think all sides are pretty much ready for there to be some sort of peace. No one likes fighting, not for this long. Everyone is losing resources. Something will crack soon." Bond says in a reassuring tone as he looks at his companion, continuing to walk down the street.

Q nods a little, finishing his tea and tossing his paper cup in the nearest trash can. "I'm glad you think so. I hope as well, that it will be over soon. War is a nasty business, if you ask me."

"Of course it is. War isn't meant to be pleasant, Q." Bond notes with a bit of amusement, and after crossing a street, he stops on the corner and points across the road. "There you are. If I recall, there's a decent barber down the street." He says before he turns to Q. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Quentin. I hope that I'll see you again."

With a small nod, Q takes the hand and shakes it firmly. "Thank you, James, for breakfast, the money.. everything. It was good to meet you as well. Perhaps when I'm back on my feet our paths will cross again." He allows with a nod of his head, the handshake lingering for a moment before he withdraws his hand and turns to cross the street while he tries to remember everything he can about the time, needing to blend in.

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 **Bit of a shorter chapter, but it's just filler and a bit of flirtation before I move on. I have to admit, this is a much harder time period to write, I certainly set myself up for a challenge. Thanks for reading!**

 **Reviews/Comments welcome!**


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